by Sealie Scott.
"Diefenbaker, you are...," words escaped Constable Benton Fraser - nothing he could say would affect or even offend his companion. The unrepentant wolf howled once and darted into the undergrowth. How the hunting had devolved into hide and seek Fraser didn't know. He pushed past the overhanging branches of an English Yew tree, with its curiously cup-shaped red berries, to skirt behind the wolf hiding under a rhododendron bush.
They came after dark on night of the full moon when Fraser could follow the wolf in the incandescent moonlight. Romping through the imported trees around a single lake in a little known park in the Northern suburbs of Chicago. The moon offset the wolf's superior natural senses against Fraser's intellect - it was an even match.
The wolf wasn't in the bush. Grinding his teeth in frustration Fraser bent over to peer at the soil to try to figure out where the wolf had crept off too. The soft light did little to illuminate the tracks obscured by the dense green leaves. Diefenbaker took the mountie in the back of the knees expertly dropping his friend to the soft earth. His tail held high Diefenbaker merged with the reflected moonlight from the lake and disappeared. Fraser rolled onto his back and stared up at the few stars visible through the Chicago night sky. Light and atmospheric pollution were too high to view the Milky Way. Fraser felt the unmistakable pang of homesickness.
The territories called.
*Let me help you* A spindly hand caught his wrist, its grip firm and reassuring. Fraser pulled his gaze from the stars above and focused on the figure hovering before him. It was not human. The figure was seedling tall and gnarled as if made of pieces of branches and twigs woven together with grass, moss and lichen. There had to be a form beneath the twigs else where did the luminous brown eyes find their sockets? The more he looked the more he could see the faintest suggestion of a nose and mouth. Perfectly formed teeth shone diamond like within a lipless mouth.
*You're staring*
"Oh, sorry," Fraser apologised. "Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police." He nervously introduced himself to the... Then he realised that he didn't actually know what stood before him.
*You really shouldn't give your name away so freely*
"Ah," Fraser said intelligently, "sorry."
*Unless of course it is not your true name*
"It's the only one I have." Fraser said guilelessly.
The entity (Fraser supposed) sighed wisely. *Well, it is nice to meet such a nice trusting young man*
"Thank you, ma'am." Fraser hazarded.
"Very perceptive.*
The mountie considered the androgynous figure standing before him. This is new, he decided. The leaves rustled and the wolf crept out from beneath a bare fallen tree truck. Hugging the ground, Diefenbaker moved forwards and made obeisance to the being before him. Never before had Fraser seen the wolf show reverence to man or beast. Fraser brought himself to attention as Dief rolled onto his back displaying his belly. He held his breath as the being reached down and scratched the ecstatic wolf's stomach with her twig like hand.
"How may I help you?" Fraser asked politely. "I assume you require my assistance else why reveal yourself."
*Oh, you are a joy.* The figure oozed (Fraser noted) forwards - she didn't walk if you watched closely - earth reformed around her giving her the semblance of walking. Smiling, it was most definitely a smile, she brushed the hair from his forehead with a gentle hand.
*Do you like this place?*
Different, wider questions were in her eyes and voice. Fraser considered the trees around him, the earth beneath his feet, the moonlight glinting off the lake and the skyscrapers hemming the park.
"Yes." He answered simply.
*Good* She responded. *You will help.*
It was not a question but Fraser answered anyway. "Of course."
*You know inherent truths; that is rare* The being said conversationally.
"Thank you." Fraser scratched absently at the side of his neck as he waited for the being to continue.
She sunk in on herself becoming squatter, a rounded abdomen forming beneath pendulous breasts.
*Know this: this place must be protected.*
"From what?" The scene around him was peaceful and undisturbed it, was difficult to imagine a threat.
*This is my life* She made an encompassing gesture. *You are my heartbeat. But your touch can stay with me beyond your time. Do you understand?*
"No." Fraser said honestly. The change from omniscient deity to confused philosopher was disconcerting.
*Tiny lives. You move so fast I can barely see you. This place is changing faster than it should. If it continues it will be less than it is. And now is not the time for change.*
The wizened, spidery crone gripped his shoulder - Fraser now knew the being before him. *You can slow the change* The voice was wise and tired. *I've seen you do it. I wish I knew you but you moved away* She shook him firmly - a parental slap. *But you are coming back*
It was then that Fraser realised that the entity was speaking generically rather than individually. Her message imparted, the being slipped downwards merging with the soil. Fraser dropped into a crouch and rested his hand on top of the earth. Beneath his fingers he felt the softness of fabric. Fraser squatted lower examining the material - it appeared to be a small bag, knotted at the top, small enough to sit in the palm of his hand. Dief nudged his elbow, startling the mountie. Yellow eyes passed a message.
"She wants me to have it?" Fraser asked. Reassured, he picked up the pouch and with deft fingers untied it and poured the contents into his hand. A single diamond winked up at him gleaming in the moonlight.
"What's Ray going to make of this?"
Diefenbaker didn't answer.
"You want me to what?" The detective hissed across his cluttered desk. The police precinct was, as usual, a continually rolling mass of criminals with victims and police officers vying for attention or trying to simply sort out nightmares. Welsh was orchestrating the chaos from his office. Ray probably had the most secluded position in the entire department. Squirreled away in one corner, Fraser noted, it is very sensible of Lieutenant Welsh to keep Ray in a relatively quiet part of the office where people can't jog him - he's liable to bite the perpetrator's head off.
"Hello?" Ray interrupted.
"Sorry, Ray. I was miles away."
"I noticed." Ray snapped. "You want me to what?"
"As I said, I wondered if you would be so kind as to run a database check to determine if any crimes have been carried out in Haggis Park."
"Why?" Ray drawled.
Ah, that is the crux of the matter, Fraser mused. Bracing himself, he dove straight in: "The Earth Mother asked me too."
"Who?" Ray asked incredulously.
"As you no doubt know, Ray, many religions have personified the earth as a maternal figure: Spider Woman of Native American tradition; Gaia, of Greek Mythology; Dana, I believe, of Celtic..."
Ray held up his hand, interrupting the mountie, he seemed lost for words. He didn't yell, which Fraser wasn't entirely sure was a good sign or a bad sign. He just sat quietly with his hand in the air demanding silence. An irreverent portion of Fraser wished that he had a camera to record a dumbfounded Ray for posterity.
"She didn't actually report a crime but I think that is what she was..."
Ray waved his hand, shutting the mountie firmly up. The detective closed the file before him with a controlled, tight snap and them stood up. Fraser remained sitting. Without a single word, Ray left his desk and headed towards the restroom. Fraser folded his hands on the desk and waited patiently for his friend to return.
He didn't have to wait long. The detective returned to his seat again without saying a word. Once settled, Ray pushed up his sleeves and leaned back in his seat. Fraser ran his tongue across his teeth a tad nervously.
"So, let me get this straight: Spider Woman reported a crime? This isn't the Stan Lee, Marvel one?"
"No, Ray. As I said, I think She was attempting to report a crime - unfortunately She was unable to verbalise exactly what She was trying to convey. I gained the impression that she views time differently. Whilst She is aware of humans in a historic sense, individuals move to quickly. If you consider a May Fly - they are adults for a single day, as you were, to us that is a very short time but to a May Fly it could be a hundred years. It would make communication a little difficult."
Ray's eye narrowed but he didn't volunteer any input. Fraser was getting worried. "If you think of humans as May Flies and Dana, for instance, as a human she would know about out birth, life, breeding, death - our life history - through study. But humans have undergone a great deal of technological and industrial progress in the last two hundred years especially since the Second World War. Forty years balanced against a millennia could be a bit confusing. Alternatively, She may be morally unable to impart her message. Historically and mythically meetings between a mortal and an avatar are usually couched in obscure language deliberately setting the less developed mortal on a path to find the answer..."
Fraser's voice trailed off - he really didn't like Ray's expression.
"So you were walking Dief and the earth mother came up and spoke to you?"
"Yes." Fraser said hesitatingly.
"And tell me: why do you think I think you're freakin' insane?"
"I don't know, Ray." Fraser said innocently.
Ray dropped his head onto the desk. "What's it like having a mind so wide open a Boeing 747 can land in it?" He muttered to the woodwork.
"Er...refreshing?"
Ray's head jerked upright. Fraser distantly realised that he had pressed Ray's over reaction button. The detective's voice reached strident heights. The entire office stopped what they were doing and openly stared. Fraser glanced over his shoulder and regarded the police officers. With any luck they would soon ignore the classic reaction to one of the weird mountie's weirder requests and go back to work. One man stood with his arms crossed watching the pair with a poker face. Fraser cocked his head to the side as he studied the man - he guessed he was a professional of some sort from the ghastly tweed jacket and slacks. All the man needed was a pipe to fulfil the intellectual stereotype. His expression told Fraser that trouble was standing a couple of desks away. With misgivings, Fraser gently tugged at Ray's sleeve - actually touching his friend broke the attack.
"What!"
"That gentleman is watching us." Fraser said quietly.
"Aw, shit." Ray glanced across at the man and then quickly looked away. Deliberately, Ray grabbed a report and hissed at the mountie to join him in their cupboard.
Defensively, Ray huddled into the corner of the cupboard. Fraser pushed a pail of mops and brushes to one side and joined his friend. The door closed on Diefenbaker.
"Who is he, Ray?"
"Police psychologist." Ray sighed deeply.
"Oh." Fraser said monosyllabically, he had had run in with police psychologists, they were best avoided. The words eccentric and nuts came to mind.
"He's doing some sort of thesis on police and stress management. Why he can't read the last two psychologists' reports and leave us alone - I don't know."
"I don't know either, Ray."
"That wasn't a question." Ray glared at the mountie. "You never know you might end up as a test case."
"I wouldn't like that." Fraser said, he could hear the clanging of Victorian insane asylum cell doors.
"Well, if you tell him about your 'earth mother' he'll probably wrap you up in a straight jacket and take you down to the nut house."
"Are you going to tell him?"
"No." Ray slumped further into the corner, running his fingers over his short hair. Fraser crouched next to him.
"Ray?" He tried when the lack of response from his partner began to unnerve even him.
"You gotta know, Benny, it sounds fuckin' weird."
"Do you believe me?"
"Ah," Ray sighed, "it's a clich but I believe you believe you saw something. It was probably someone dressed up and they're laughing their head off at you now."
Fraser ran through the experience in his head. He knew that he wasn't that gullible. All in all it had seemed pretty straight forward - but if Ray hadn't been there it was understandable that he had reservations.
"Ray, Ray, Ray." Fraser said gaining the detective's attention, he fumbled in one of the compartments in his Sam Browne and extracted the small pouch that She had given him. The diamond tumbled out into the palm of his hand. Fraser held it out to his best friend. Ray peered closely at it.
"And?" He asked.
Fraser was very surprised at the lack of reaction. "She entrusted it to me."
"A piece of grey coal?" Ray plucked it from the mountie's hand and examined it under the light sheeting through the door grill.
"Oh, dear." Fraser looked at the rainbow of light gleaming from the multi-faceted diamond.
They had regrouped and returned to Ray's desk in an attempt to act normally. The desk was an improbable island of calm in the chaotic office. Ray had demanded, no insisted, that the mountie sit quietly in his chair and think over his last half hour and more importantly the events of the previous night. The request that the mountie not speak had almost been an afterthought.
I wonder why Ray wants me to remain seated, Fraser thought puzzled, normally he wants me to get out of his sight.
Ray's shorn head was bent over a file, pulling details from a legal document, whispering words under his breath. The detective was occupied so Fraser watched. He always watched. Elaine was a study in concentration as she extracted a statement from a confused bag lady. The bluish forms for Social Security sat unattended by her side as Elaine enfolded the woman's grimy hands in her narrow delicate fingers and listened. Huey was the exact opposite gesticulating widely, fired up over another officer's comments. Elaine managed to draw a smile from the old woman. Then without conscious volition, Fraser withdrew the diamond from the pouch and held it before his eyes. He could feel its sharp smoothness in his fingers, see the light fractured within. However, Ray saw a lump of coal. Indeed one led to the other but not without infernal temperatures and abyssal pressures. And from the lack of reaction from the precinct around him he did not hold a 48 carat diamond in his hand.
Muttering something about a dictionary Ray stood up.
"Stay!" He pointed at the mountie keeping him seated.
Fraser watched mutely as his friend left on his dictionary hunt. As he expected the psychologist immediately came over.
"Hello, I'm Doctor Conor Proudfoot." He held out his hand. Fraser stood and introduced himself, shaking the doctor's hand firmly. The doctor's handshake was equally firm and cool to the touch. Usually a good sign if as one could, as folklore said, judge a person by their handshake.
"I was curious to know why you are here." The doctor said opening the conversation. The severe haircut was an attempt to add years onto a babyish face, Fraser noted. The mountie revised his initial estimate of the doctor's age down by several years.
"My friend, Detective Raymond Vecchio, works here."
"I've seen you here quite a bit."
"I visit Ray often." Fraser responded.
"I thought you were having a fight before."
"No, Ray was just yelling at me."
"He does that quite a lot?"
It's too work off tension, Fraser thought,Ray will really yell at me if I say that.
"Ray tells me that you are doing a study on stress management." Fraser asked with the subtly of a rhinoceros charging a safari party.
"That's a classic evasion reaction, Constable Fraser." Dr Proudfoot said, there was a self-congratulatory gleam in his eyes.
"Yes." Fraser said honestly. "But if you want to discuss Detective Vecchio you'll have to talk to him - personally. I didn't want to be obvious."
"Oh, but you were."
Fraser nodded. "I have been told that I'm rather bad a dissembling."
"Who by?" The doctor sounded honestly curious.
"Everyone who knows me."
The doctor laughed, a taut over controlled laugh.
"Hi?" Ray's voice was a welcome interruption. The detective slipped in between the mountie and the psychologist deliberately breaking their line of sight.
"I was making chit-chat with Dr Proudfoot." Fraser said artlessly.
"Chit-chat?" With a leery expression Ray stopped and dumped a legal dictionary on his desk.
"Chit-chat: conversation about nothing of any importance." Fraser supplied helpfully.
"Yeah, you're probably damn good at that, Fraser." Obviously preparing to go outside, Ray grabbed his long overcoat and slipped into it.
Fraser looked at him curiously. The 'Hour of Contemplation' Ray had imposed upon him was not up and Ray had whinged on and on about how much work Louise St Laurent had inflicted upon a poor hard working detective. He wondered innocently where they were going.
"Come on, Benny, we're going to your park." Ray grabbed his friend by the elbow and frog-marched him across the office.
"A pleasure meeting you, Dr Proudfoot." Fraser called over his shoulder as he was propelled out the door.
Fraser realised almost immediately that they were not heading towards the park. The gold compass that Ray had bought him for Christmas was pointing due south.
"I thought you told me that we were heading to the park."
"I wanted to get Proudfoot out of our hair."
"You were lying." There was a hint of reproach in the mountie's voice.
Ray groaned and dropped his head onto the steering wheel as they continued driving along the street. Fraser hovered indescively for a long terrified second and then gripped the steering wheel. As if suddenly burned Ray sat upright - he swatted at his friend's hand - reluctantly Fraser released the wheel.
"I never had these crises of conscience until I met you!" Ray wrenched hard down on the wheel, spinning the car through 180 degrees into the oncoming traffic.
"Great Scott!" Fraser clung to the dash board - Dief howled in the back seat.
"We're going to the park; quit complaining."
Balanced on his haunches, Fraser examined the earth in the cold light of day. Ray stood over him, hugging his great overcoat to his slender body. The detective rocked from foot to foot in vain attempt to keep warm. It isn't that cold, Fraser considered, but Ray's probably more sensitive to lower temperatures - less insulation. There was a frosty bite to the air which heralded the beginning of winter. The freshly tilled soil was hardening. Somewhere off to the side Dief was snuffling happily in the fallen leaves.
"If it was special effects there is no evidence now." Fraser said deliberately.
Ray was wise to his omission. "So why do you think it was your earth mother?" The derision in the detective's voice was obvious.
The diamond in his Sam Browne burned with a cold heat. Fraser stood and dusted the dry soil from his gloves. There was no clue here but possibly elsewhere in the park.
"Let me have a look at that pouch you said that she gave you. Maybe there's something in that." Fraser was surprised at how reluctant he felt about now letting the pouch out of his possession. However if he couldn't give it to Ray who could he give it too? The long cords keeping the pouch tightly closed trailed through his fingers as Ray lifted the pouch from his unwilling hand.
"Nice needlework." Ray said surprisingly as he examined the pouch. Fraser joined his friend in his study. Ray was right, incredibly fine gold angular stitches covered the soft brown leather pouch. Holding it up to the light brought the stitches out in high relief. The pattern was complicated and on, an albeit, quick look there appeared to be no repetition - just aimlessly wandering glyphs.
"I don't recognise the style." Ray said knowledgeably.
Fraser raised an eyebrow.
"Ma likes needlework." Ray shrugged. "We can show it too her." He swung the pouch by the cords batting it with one hand keeping up a constant rhythm.
"Ray!" Fraser wrenched the pouch away from Ray's grasp. "Suppose She's watching?" He looked around concerned. His white face reflected in his friend's oak tree eyes.
"Benny..." Ray gripped the pouch - enclosing Fraser's bigger hand in his two hands. "It's a lump of coal - probably from Newcastle."
"Suppose it's not?" Fraser backed away.
Ray's eyes narrowed. "Benny..." He began.
"I don't expect you to understand, Ray. How can you if you live like here? You see that pine tree over there? You can eat the kernels. They're nice and sweet. I know you're worried - else why drag me away from the psychologist? But remember Mr Garrett, the psychometricist? He picked up resonances: images of events past, present and future, from things around him. He helped us save that young woman."
"Time out, Benny, you're not making any sense. What's this got to do with the coal?"
"It's not coal - it's a diamond." Fraser said slowly his eyes beseeching.
"It's a lump of coal. It's grey an' black and coal-like."
"It looks like a diamond to me."
Ray stepped back, his expression worried. "A diamond?" He ventured.
"Maybe it's an almost diamond." Fraser admitted. "It's special, Ray, I know it is."
Ray blew out slowly - thoughts were churning behind his concerned expression but Fraser couldn't read beyond the open concern in his friend's face.
"Benny, I'm trying to keep an open mind here but you're not making this very easy. What would you do if somebody came up to you and said God's given me a mission and a magic diamond that nobody but me can see?" Ray considered his question. "Oh, forget it, I know what you would do - ask how you could help."
Ray started pacing in the dry autumnal leaves - kicking viciously at the defenceless leaves and occasional stone.
"Would it help if I say that - this might not be a diamond?" Fraser said appeasingly. If it was a real diamond everyone would be able to see the stone. Therefore it was not a diamond - circular logic but logic nevertheless.
"Yeah," Ray stopped and crossed his arms, "would it be better if I didn't ask what you think it is?"
"Oh, yes." I don't know what it is.
The glare that Ray shot at the mountie should have incinerated him. The detective's mouth opened to deliver an acidic retort to his friend's words but the words were lost as he suddenly plummeted out of sight.
"Ray!" Fraser launched himself forwards. Dief was suddenly at his side. They came to an almost immediate stop at the top of a small embankment. Fraser pushed away branches to reveal an angry Ray Vecchio sprawled on his back a couple of meters below. He was lying in a dried up river bed. The air around the detective was blue with the language he hurled up at the sky. Surprisingly most of it wasn't aimed at the mountie.
He must be okay, Fraser thought relieved, nobody could yell that much and not be okay.
Dief bounded down the slope and enthusiastically licked the detective's face - he couldn't resist the temptation.
"Wolf slobber!" Ray shrieked.
A wolfish grin on his face, Dief ran away before the detective could retaliate. Effortlessly, Fraser dropped to his friend's side. Ray had already propped himself up on his elbows.
"That stone I was standing on moved!" He shrieked very much aggrieved.
"You'll be telling me next that you're seeing magic diamonds."
"Is that supposed to be funny?" Ray snapped. He held out his hand allowing Fraser to haul him to his feet.
"No, Ray." Fraser said glibly as he help Ray brush off the dried leaves and mud he had collected on his way down.
"Good." Ray said sullenly.
A regular pattern in the ice dry mud caught the mountie's attention, he crouched down suddenly oblivious to his friend's irate mutterings. On closer examination they appeared to be tyre tracks.
"What?" Ray demanded.
"Some kind of off-road vehicle - landrover, I believe. Unusual." Fraser knelt with his nose practically in the mud. "No scent - the tracks must have been left when there was water in the stream."
"So how come they weren't washed away?"
"Good question. Maybe the water current was insufficient." He looked around. "Given that the stream has dried up it couldn't have been a heavy flow."
"Maybe it's been dammed." Ray put forwards. "Or..." He didn't finish his thoughts.
"Good idea." Intrigued by Ray's idea, Fraser began to back-track up the river bed, bending over every now and again to examine the substrate.
Head bowed, Ray followed at his heels, hands firmly rammed into his pockets. The tyre tracks were intermittent but the stones in the river bed were forced deep into the mud. It seemed that the landrover had often came down to the lake side via the river.
"Oooh." Fraser noticed flecks of paint on an outcrop of rock. Flicking out his knife he scraped the particles onto his white handkerchief.
"Ray, look."
Dutifully, Ray peered at the paint flecks.
"We're looking for a landrover which was originally green and is now white,"
"That'll be easy to find." Ray said cynically.
Ignoring him, Fraser continued up the river bed - a basic inconsistency suddenly struck him.
"What I don't understand," he began, addressing the general area around him, "is why there are stones in the river bed? If the water moves slowly there should be mud deposited over the stones yet they are washed clean."
"Where are we, Fraser?" Ray asked his expression was unfathomably smug.
"Chicago." Fraser said slowly.
"Yes." Ray drawled - there was a knowing gleam in his eyes, "but where are we?" Licking his lips nervously, Fraser ventured: "A river?"
"No." Ray said, his tone saying 'I'm humouring an idiot'. "We're in storm drain. There is a road somewhere ahead. It rains on the road, collects and then washes into the lake. Very fast flow for a very short time. So there's no mud."
A drain purely for storms, how curious, Fraser thought, it must have been a stream originally.
"So we know when the landrover came down to the lake side." Ray smiled. "Just after the last heavy rain. Last Monday, I remember, Ma asked me to bring the laundry in from the garden - two seconds after I'd got in from work - I hadn't even sat down..."
"Half moon - it was a bright cloudless night." Fraser said determined to interrupt his friend before he became thoroughly engrossed in domestic disputes.
"How do you know that?" Ray demanded.
"Dief wanted to go for a walk - he actually wanted to hunt." Fraser mused. "So if we operate on the supposition that they come when they can see what they are doing by the light of the moon - they might come tonight."
"Why?"
"Tonight's a full moon and there is no cloud cover." Fraser gazed upwards.
"Who's coming?"
Fraser waited until they emerged from beneath the trees below the road side before answering. "I don't know - whoever is driving the landrover."
Traffic thundered above their heads. At the base of the road there was a dark cavernous hole. Water trickled from the drain down a concrete ramp.
"It probably connects with some more roads." Ray ran up the ramp and peered into the hole. "You don't want to go in there - do you?"
"No."
Ran mimicked a heart attack. "You don't want to go in a dark, yucky hole? Where's the real Fraser? I want him back."
Ignoring him, Fraser pointed at a service slope which led up to the road. "The landrover will come down this way."
Blowing out an 'I'm abused' sigh, Ray said: "So we're coming back after dark?"
"Yes, Ray."
Timing it so it was during a shift change Ray snuck into the precinct. Tired police officers and staff clogged the entrance making it easy for the detective to slip unobserved into the main office and access Elaine's desk and more importantly her computer. Officially he was now off duty - but Welsh was not going to harp on at a detective who was staying late. However, he might be curious enough to ask Ray what he was up to and more likely how mountie was involved. The DMV computer couldn't find any cross references between vehicle infractions involving a white landrover in or around the vicinity of Haggis Park. Then again Ray didn't expect to find any - but he had to try.
The door of Welsh's glass office opened and both the Lieutenant and the psychologist walked out. Welsh had his head bowed clearly listening to Conor Proudfoot's words - Ray couldn't tell what they were talking about.
I'm being paranoid, Ray decided as he hunched down on his seat hiding behind the computer.
The computer chimed and opened another file - no landrovers involved in crimes committed in the Greater Metropolitan area of Chicago stood out. Disgruntled, Ray logged off. It was getting dark - time to pick up the mountie.
"Vecchio."
You could never tell with Harding Welsh if he was going to rip you to shreds or just be incredibly cynical or amused. After years too numerous to mention Ray knew that he still didn't have a handle on the Lieutenant's personality.
"Yes, sir?" Ray pushed back from the computer so he could better read the Lieutenant's body language.
"Where's the mountie?"
"At home. I dropped him off about an hour ago."
"See." Welsh said to the psychologist and retreated to his office.
"What's that about?" Ray asked defensively.
"I mentioned to your Lieutenant that I thought it unusual that your friend spent all his time down here and that it was allowed."
"Well, he doesn't." Ray sniped and stood up - intent on getting as far away as possible from the doctor.
"I'm not your enemy."
"Oh God, what a freakin' clich. What is your problem? He's not even a member of the Chicago police force. He's out of your...jurisdiction."
"I'm a psychologist first and a member if the police department second." Conor Proudfoot actually sounded annoyed. "If I see someone who needs my help I'm not going to not offer it solely because he is not a Chicago police officer."
Ray had the grace to look abashed then his natural camouflage came to the fore. "Who says he needs help?" Ray attacked.
"You."
"Me?" Ray automatically pointed to his chest.
"You're scared of psychologists - that is hardly unusual. But I've never seen someone be so scared of a psychologist for someone else. So unnerved that he'll literally drag that person away before they can say anything that can possibly 'incriminate' themselves."
Because he believes the earth mother talks to him. Because he's got a magic diamond that I can't see.
"Detective?" Proudfoot questioned.
"Miles away." Ray said offhandedly, the psychologist had him backed into a metaphorical corner and Ray was desperately searching for a way to diffuse the situation.
"Hey, he's Canadian, I thought you might think he's insane."
"You're avoiding the subject, detective. If you think your friend had a problem; I may be able to help."
Ray examined the man before him and knew instinctively that he did not trust him. Two minutes after confiding in this man, the psychologist would be on his way to the Canadian Consulate and more terrifyingly the Dragon Lady with the best of intentions. Yeah, Benny was eccentric and lived on another planet where everybody trusted each other and were nice and helpful. But the beauty was that people who met Benny joined his imaginative universe even if it was for only a moment. There was no way he was going to spoil that magic.
"Wrong - there's nothin' the matter with Benny; he's fine the way he is." Ray's voice was confident and assured. "Now if you'll get out of my way - my shift's over."
Fraser doled out 'Happy Chappie' dog food into Dief's bowl. The wolf was certainly backsliding. The cereal rich, appetisingly named, meat product was one of the few dog foods Diefenbaker would lower himself to eat. Fraser gave it a tentative sniff, it smelt like it was loaded with monosodium glutamate - no doubt that was why the wolf loved it so much.
"Once we've finished these new cans I am not buying you anymore of this food. You're going to have nice wholesome steaks."
Diefenbaker hid a smug grin.
Fraser dropped the bowl to the floor. Diefenbaker went for it. Well, like a starving wolf, Fraser noted.
"You'd think I never fed you."
I've got time too change into dark clothes, grab some food, do some handwashing and see how Mr Campbell's doing before Ray picks me up.
He didn't get past the Sam Browne after undoing his epaulette. He almost didn't want to look at it but he reluctantly extracted the diamond from its pouch.
"What do you think, Dief? Is it a diamond?"
Dief inserted a characteristically facetious comment.
"So She just gave it to me - so I would that I'm insane - did She?"
Dief stopped eating long enough to flash a lupine grin at his companion.
"Very funny."
Dief chortled in his own inimitable fashion.
"I don't see why She gave it to me... It is not as if it was necessary for Her to give me some proof. If anything all this would do," he brandished the diamond in Dief's face, "is convince me that I am going insane."
Dief licked his bowl clean with one slow draw of his tongue.
"Show it to someone else? That a good idea, Dief. What do you see?"
Dief lifted his nose up and snuffled at the diamond.
"A stone," Fraser pursed his lips, "very helpful."
*What do you expect? I'm a wolf. I don't care about material possessions* Dief's response was lost as the mountie slammed shut his rickety wooden door.
Fraser stopped a short distance down the corridor and tapped lightly on Mrs Gamez's door. Stepping back, he politely waited for it to open. He didn't have to wait long.
"Hello, Benton." Mrs Gamez opened the door, she held her youngest against her hip. Matilde smiled sunnily at her favourite baby-sitter.
He was always welcome at the Gamez's family home. He hoped that she wasn't cooking Chilli as she always insisted that he stay for dinner and polite refusals were met with far too much emotion - it was easier in the long run to stay.
"I wonder if you can do me a favour?"
"Of course." She smiled widely and waved the mountie into her smart clean home.
"The object in my hand," he proffered the diamond towards her, "can you describe it to me?"
Ignoring the mountie's new toy, Matilde leaned across determined to be hugged by her friend. Fraser swapped the diamond for the four year old.
Mrs Gamez held the stone up to the light, she didn't ask why Fraser was asking her to do this - used to the mountie's idiosyncratic behaviour. Benton Fraser had asked her and that was good enough for her.
"I think I saw a documentary on PBS about this... I think it is called Anthracite - a coal which is all carbon?"
Fraser watched the rainbow of light playing on the far wall as she twisted the diamond in her fingers. It refracts light, surely that is good evidence of its existence?
"Pretty."
Little Matilde in his arms was also watching the rainbow. With a four year old's characteristic unconcern for their own safety she leaned out of Fraser's arms to grab the light. Fraser deftly caught the child before she could twist out of his grasp. Following lisped directions he carried her over to the wall. Chubby little fingers scrabbled against the wallpaper unable to the catch the colours.
"Rainbow." She said happily.
"They're all she can think about since she drew me a picture in school." Mrs Gamez said indulgently.
"There is a rainbow on the wall." Fraser said neutrally.
"Where?" Mrs Gamez squinted.
"It's very faint."
A small child could see the diamond. Fraser was not entirely sure what that said about his visual senses and his thought processes. Somehow he knew what Ray's sarcastic response would be.Well, it's nice to know that I'm not going insane. But why did she give it to me?
"Oh, children's eyes are better than adults." Mrs Gamez said dismissively. "Will you stay for dinner, Benton? I've made Chilli."
The mountie's face was wreathed in smiles as the Riv pulled up outside the ratty apartment complex.
It's kinda nice when someone's so pleased to see you, Ray realised. He leaned over and opened the passenger door. Dief automatically jumped into the back seat.
"Did you think I wouldn't come?"
"Yes." Fraser said honestly.
"Hey, I wouldn't miss this for the world." Ray grinned widely. "Whatever happens it ought to be interesting."
He was not as happy some four hours later. The mountie hadn't allowed him to stop on the ramp next to the drain and wait for the Landrover but had insisted that they wait by the lakeside so they could observe the criminals when they arrived. If they did it Ray's way, he had pointed out reasonably, they would have no proof and would only be able to charge them for loitering. Ray pulled his leather cap over his ears and huddled as far as possible into his coat.
"At least there is no chill factor." Fraser pointed out ingenuously.
Ray growled deep in his throat. It was absolutely freezing - the November sky was clear and the stars radiant. Basically, that means, Ray thought peeved, that all the heat's just going straight up. He could see films of ice crystals forming on the leaves around them. And the water at the edge of the lake freezing. We're going to die of hypothermia, Ray thought ominously. Fraser was, of course, completely oblivious dressed in his jeans and leather jacket with his old white Arran jumper. The mountie was absently rubbing his chest bone as if pained.
"What's the matter." Ray demanded his tone accusatory.
"Touch of indigestion - I drank some milk before you picked me up - it's easing."
"Mrs Gamez's Chilli." Ray said knowledgeably.
"Indeed. Matilde did present me with a very nice picture of me holding a rainbow, though. I'm given to understand that I have to put it on my refrigerator door."
"It's customary."
"Ah." Fraser returned to his scrutiny of the lake shore.
They were leaning against an old crooked tree - hidden under its branches from the casual observer.
"What is this?" Ray tapped the tree trunk with a finger nail.
"Rowan." Lecture mode engaged, Fraser proceed to identify all the trees in the immediate area: Rowans; Hazels; Birches; Ash; an occasional Pine and stately Oaks.
"They're all different," Ray noticed, "is that normal?"
"No. This area's a managed woodland. I suspect from their heights the many of the trees were imported in the early to mid 19th Century." Fraser smiled. "This whole place was probably a large estate - maybe it belonged to a Rail Baron interested in arboriculture." He paused waiting for Ray to ask his question.
"What's arbori..."
"Scientific cultivation of trees."
"Why?"
"Why indeed?" Fraser wondered. "The tree types are interesting choices." Then he intoned: "Gabh for a chaltuinnm seunadh chaoruinn."
"At least speak to me in English!" Ray snapped.
"Sooory. I said: take the Hazel's wisdom, Rowan's protection."
Muttering imprecations under his breath Ray moved to the other side of the tree. Fraser cocked his head to the side as he watched Ray put a tree between them.
There he goes again - that innocent questioning expression: head tipped to the side. One of these days I'm going to kill him.
"Maybe they grew the trees because they liked them!" Ray sniped. "Not for weird stuff!"
"Yes, they are nice trees." Fraser said placatingly.
They returned to their stakeout.
"Isn't it pretty?" Fraser exhaled a slow breath watching it condense and float before him until the cloud whispered away.
"No."
"Take a deep breath - you'll know that you're alive."
"No."
"It's so crisp and clean - don't you think it is invigorating?"
"No!" Ray finally snapped loud enough for the mountie to hear.
The wounded look in his eyes cut Ray to the quick - why did Fraser have to wear his heart on his sleeve?
"Why do you do that?" Ray asked nastily.
"What?" Fraser questioned carefully.
"Nothing..." Ray rested his forehead against the cold bark beside him willing that Fraser would just once have a fight with him like a normal person. "Have you ever lost your temper?" The sharp change in conversation took the mountie by surprise. A multitude of expressions flitted across his face then his open eyes shuttered.
"Yes." Fraser admitted, morally unable to lie.
"And?" Ray asked determined to get the story.
"When the bully at school in Tuktoyaktuk tried to hit my friend with the dead otter. I had to intervene; I was very annoyed."
"No, no, no, lost your temper for you - not for someone else."
The tip of Fraser's tongue peeked from between his even teeth as he tried to find a memory other than the one which came immediately to mind.
"And?" Ray prompted. This could be good, he thought gleefully.
"I bit my Dad when Mum died because she said she was happy in heaven with my dog Velvet." Fraser blurted out.
"Why?" Ray asked incredulously, he couldn't help himself, it was such a person admission from his normally impassive friend.
"Because I didn't think it was fair. Why was she happy with Vel and I wasn't? Was I allowed to be miserable if she was happy? Yes, I did loose my temper - I drew blood."
"What did he do?" Ray whispered breathlessly.
"Sent me to live with my grandparents." Fraser answered phlegmatically.
"You're kidding..." Ray's mouth dropped open in shock.
"Well, that wasn't the reason - I thought it was for a long time - it may have been the straw that broke the camel's back... I was very young - the housekeeper he'd hired during Mum's illness had just handed in her notice - she said the house was haunted - I was fractious and uncommunicative - there were no other children within thirty kilometres - he'd used up all his compassionate leave - there was nobody to look after me. It was a logical decision."
Yeah, for Mr Spock, Ray thought.
Plainly disturbed by his confession Fraser shifted from side to side. With a theatrical rubbing of his hands he moved away from the sheltering tree.
"I'll go along the shore in case there is another route down to the water. You never know we may be wrong in our supposition and something is happening over there." Fraser pointed randomly over his shoulder and then disappeared into a bush before Ray could object. A white shadow detached itself from an oak tree and chased after the running mountie.
Ray let them go. Dief'll look afta Benny. If he's not back in ten minutes, though, I'm going after him.
Ray chewed on the inside of his cheek. I should go talk to him. He doesn't open up very often. He never opens up, Ray corrected himself. Geez, I can't remember the last time I lasted a week without blowing my stack.
The darkness had swallowed up the mountie, Ray suddenly realised that he was alone in a dark spooky park in Chicago. The area looked completely different under the light of a silvery moon. Although as Ray looked upwards he decided that it was a pale silvery-gold. The moon cast dark shadows across the ground and the wood around him was shades of black, grey and silver. Imagination was getting the better of him. It's no different now than what it was this afternoon, Ray kicked himself. The light was different - not harsh actinic street lamps but soft and diffuse changing the world around him into something more mysterious. The branches of the trees and the remaining foliage was jet black against a sky which was a grey hazy black making the trees loom threateningly. He was used to trees that were brown and green.
Time to find Benny, I think he's had long enough. Ray stepped out into the open - the glare of headlights transfixed him.
How in the Hell did that get down here without me hearing it? Behind the lights he could see a vague figure stepping out from the driver's side. Shielding his eyes with one hand Ray moved forwards.
"Chicago P.D. step away from your vehicle." He brandished his gun. A click of a revolver cocking stopped him dead. In the trees, he realised, to my right. They had a clear shot and he couldn't see anything past the glaring lights.
"Put your gun down."
He had no choice but to obey. Now would be a great time to come to the rescue, Benny, he thought furiously.
The light abruptly went out - effectively blinding the detective. Before he could regain his sight the man from the Landrover had kicked away the gun and had his own weapon pointed at the detective.
Come on, Benny.
"Now what?" A voice asked.
Ray's eyes acclimatised to the lack of light. He could just make out a young athletic man emerging from the trees swaggering with self importance. When the man saw his associate pointing a gun at the detective he pocketed his own revolver as he ambled over to the twosome.
"Where's your back up, pig?" Ray recognised the large shaven headed man with the distinctive goatee pointing the gun at him. He was one of those low lifes that appeared regularly in the precinct lock up. A heavy, funded by those with money, to do their dirty work. The same people who supplied him with too smart lawyers.
"I wish I knew." Ray retorted.
"What's he doing here?" The younger man was unfamiliar but the cold hard expression told Ray that this scum was following in his companion's footsteps.
"I know him" Shaven said calculatingly. "Seen him in the 27th - usually with that nutty mountie. Big Red'll be somewhere - get Fred to look around and deal with him."
The younger man nodded and headed back to the Landrover. "You want me to start unloading the barrels?"
"No, help me with Detective Vecchio." Shaven smiled pleasantly.
Fraser blundered into a gnarled oak tree. It brought him back to himself. A tangle of branches arched above him - another plant entwined the old oak tree giving it an entangled heart. Fraser reached up and touched the sucking branches wondering if he ought to rip away the strangling mass. No, the tree wanted to be left alone. It made his think of an old stalwart man braced against the elements. Defying all help; determined to succeed alone. Fraser shook his head - he was hallucinating - imagining at tree as a man with arms outstretched to the sky above. Forcing a deep breath he grounded himself and turned away from the tree with its disturbing imagery. He pulled the pouch from his pocket tempted to throw it from him - back into the dark wood which had spawned it. Whittering on about traditional uses of trees to the openly sceptical Ray Vecchio had been prompted by the damned stone's presence, Fraser realised. And that had led Ray to drag up old memories best forgotten.
Abruptly he made himself concentrate solely on the fact that he had left his nervous alone in the dark. That was inexcusable. Somebody behind him was crashing noisily around in the trees. The snap of breaking branches told him that the person was not experienced in woodcraft.
Ray, no doubt, Fraser decided. "I'm over here, Ray!"
The footsteps sounded heavier than Ray Vecchio's and there was no swearing. Concerned, Fraser moved quietly towards the footsteps, taking the time to button up his jacket to hide the white sweater. Ahead of him a behemoth moved.
Definitely not Ray. Heavy man - possibly twice Ray's weight.
Fraser moved unerringly forwards, his dark leather jacket and trousers merging with the foliage. His pale face turned away from the light of the moon into the shadows. He retraced his footsteps along the side of the path he had blindingly ran mere minutes before.
The man was massive, clumping through the undergrowth, hampered by shoes which sounded too large for his feet. Fraser slipped further into the shadows to watch as the man emerged from the undergrowth and stepped onto the beaten down path.
A light growl identified the white wolf's presence across the trail. Yellow eyes hunted the man next to him. With a smooth signal Fraser made the wolf back down. The wolf's hackles were raised. Fraser knew that Diefenbaker only reacted with such venom when his friends or family were in danger. The man stopped - the darkness was unnerving him - his fear has already lost him the battle. Scenting the terror Diefenbaker slunk forwards his teeth bared. Reacting to his companion's stance Fraser ghosted onto the path directly in front of the man.
"Fuc..." The man jerked back caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, Dief jumped at the man deliberately missing - teeth snapping a breath from the terrified face. The man tripped and collapsed at the mountie's feet.
"Why are you here?" Fraser questioned - he knew he presented a formidable sight silhouetted against the moonlight. The naked fear on the man's face was physically painful but Diefenbaker was not backing down.
This person feel *wrong* - he is up to no good.
"I've come to kill the mountie." The man flung his hands over his face cowering from the wolf.
"Ray!" If the man knew of his presence in the woods he must have met, and maybe hurt, Ray. Dief barked once: yes.
"Guard him, Dief."
Fraser crashed through the bushes, twisting out of the way of grabbing branches which seemed determined to ensnare him. A branch finally caught him bringing him to his knees and senses. It would do Ray no good it he burst in on whatever scene lay ahead unweaponed and unprepared. Calmer, Fraser slipped around smooth silver birches and tall aristocratic firs until he came out of the woods on the pebbled shore of the lake. The storm drain was somewhere ahead. Figures were splashing in the shallow water by the mouth of the old stream. There were two of them, Fraser realised, a large bulky man and a slighter younger one. Bright day-glow colours were plainly visible, clashing with the moonlight, giving away their position.
They're wearing dry suits, Fraser realised. His eyes widened as an Armani clad arm struggled out of the water scrabbling for air.
"Oh, my God!" Fraser leaped into the water - churning through the cold water to the struggling figures.
The pouch, its trailing cords firmly clasped, jumped out of his hand banging against his side. The two men stopped to face the mountie - Ray did not surface.
"No!" Fraser flung himself at the men.
The diamond in its soft leather pouch swung out, almost of its own accord, catching one of Ray's assailants on the side of the head. The cracking of fragile bone sounded hollow and with a small gasp the slight man dropped into the dark water. Fraser tackled the larger man head on. Bones broke under his impact. Grunting, the man stumbled, lost his footing on the slippery rocks and mud, and fell back into the water. Caught in the man's arms, Fraser slipped beneath the surface. The cloying waters held them both with a cold deathly grip - seeping strength and life. Desperately, Fraser struggled against the bulky man - the water seem infinitely deeper than a moment ago - he couldn't find the bottom. With a flailing kick Fraser pushed away. Something held him. His hand was caught in taut narrow lashes - numbing his fingers. Suddenly he realised that it was the cords of the pouch. Entangled, Fraser pushed at them but they wouldn't release him and whatever held the diamond wasn't going to let go. The pouch and its contents were not important.
Ray.
Fraser slipped out his knife and slashed the cords. As he struggled to the surface fingers caught at his ankle and then slipped from the wet leather.
Gasping, Fraser broke the surface.
"Ray!"
Frantically, Fraser shook his head shaking the water from his eyes. The fight had only lasted a heartbeat but he couldn't see Ray. Struggling, dragged down by his wet clothes, Fraser paddled shorewards until he found footing on the slimy mud. He stood and cast desperately around for Ray. Wet wool glinted in the moonlight. Fraser splashed towards the inert form - Ray's body floated face down in the water.
"Ray?" He flipped the body onto its back. Ray's face was slack and disturbingly featureless. Incredibly a feeble pulse flickered against his fingertips. No breath stirred the body. Without hesitation Fraser tipped the head back, pinched the nose shut and breathed for his friend. And again. And again. Fifteen slow measured breaths.
Then a rest.
The pulse still moved. Fraser waited, counting the beats of his hammering heart as Ray's chest relaxed into stillness. He didn't breathe. Fraser leaned over, clamped his mouth over Ray's and breathed again. Another hellishly long fifteen breaths and waiting but Ray still didn't breathe. Fraser began again.
And again.
Tiny light stars began to flash behind his eyes as he exhaled.
"Come on, Ray, don't do this to me!" Fraser begged.
The slightest of tremors stirred Ray's body then he coughed, a wet pathetic cough.
"I won't." Ray whispered and then gagged on the water he had inhaled.
Fraser held his friend as he retched up the water and the contents of his stomach. The tremor became a fully fledged shiver as shock took hold. Ray didn't even protest as Fraser swung him into his arms and forged through the water to the lake side.
I've got to get Ray warm before he becomes hypothermic. The criminals' landrover was a the obvious solution, Fraser realised immediately. He settled Ray in the passenger seat. The detective's teeth chattered loudly in the small cabin. A dive bag lay on the back seat - Fraser rifled through it finding towels and more importantly dry clothes. Hampered by the close confines Fraser wrenched off Ray's coat.
"Come on, Ray, help me." He coaxed.
"Cold." Ray complained plaintively as he tried to untangle himself from his sodden jumper. Like undressing a child, Fraser pulled the jumper over the detective's head. The shirt was easier to discard. Bare flesh. Fraser wrapped his friend in a towel and then pulled off his slacks. Rubbing the legs and thighs briskly with another towel brought goose bumps to the chilled flesh. Blindly, Fraser grabbed a pair of jogging bottoms and wrestled his friend in to them. Then he dried off Ray's skinny chest and arms.
"Not nice."
"I know they're not up to your normal standards but they're warm and dry. I don't want you to catch cold."
He planted a scratchy woollen hat on the detective's head and then proceeded to drape all the clothes in the bag over his friend. Only then did he check the ignition and turn on the landrover's heater.
"You're wet too." Ray ground out.
"Yes, but I'm not going into shock." Fraser said absently as he peered out through the windscreen, He had left two criminals in the water and one in the woods.
Oh, dear - I better do something. He ran down to the shore, leaving Ray warming in the vehicle. No bodies floated at the surface - no frantic splashing marked a drowning man's presence. Slowly Fraser walked into the water, when it reached his thighs one calf muscle cramped agonisingly in complaint. Knowing that he too was in danger of becoming hypothermic he had no choice but to return to the shore.
Oh, dear. Fraser thought again, he had just drowned two men. Shocky, he looked back to Ray in the landrover. The windows were misting up as the temperature rose. Check on Ray, Paramedics and Rescue Services, then the police, Fraser decided running through his priorities. Almost dithering, he ran back up to the landrover and for the first time noticed the metal canisters in a trailer towed behind the landrover. Orange diamond hazard warning labels were plastered on the canisters. And there was the distinctive smell of corroding metal.
I wonder if Chicago has some sort of environmental protection agency?
"Ah..." Realisation struck.
Suddenly, there was the unmistakable sensation of being watched and weighed. Composing himself, he stood gazing into the middle distance, every sense stretched to the utmost. The tree rustled and the sounds of the city played in the background. He waited for Her to appear. But no indistinct figure, no vague form, moved in the dark woods.
"I'll get divers to drag the lake for any other canisters." Fraser finally called out. "If you want your diamond back - it's somewhere in the lake - I used it to save Ray."
The heavy feeling passed.
"Please." Fraser called out.
The sensation of watching returned.
"I..," Fraser began, "left two men in the water - I had no choice. I had to save Ray. They'll die." Fraser's voice tapered away, his conscience was crying out for attention. "They're wearing dry-suits, they could be alive. I can't leave them out there but I can't find them..."
She came in her androgynous sylph like form, in Her hands She held an amorphous mass of material. There was an transcendent smile on Her face. Fraser stood transfixed. She paused at the edge of the trees and placed the bundle on the earth. Then she disappeared. Unprompted, Fraser moved to the bundle - only then he realised that it was his cherished stetson. He hadn't even noticed that he had lost it in the rush to save Ray. His own shivering broke the trance - Ray was right he was chilled to the bone.
With his stetson, Fraser returned to his friend. The detective sat where Fraser had left him - shivering so violently he couldn't key in numbers in the cell phone held in his shaking hand.
"Where did you get that?"
"Tttthe pocket." Ray stuttered, almost unable to form words. He simply pointed at the sopping wet Armani coat in the footwell. Then he gave up trying to operate the phone and pushed it into the mountie's hands.
Shaking almost as badly as Ray, Fraser nearly dropped the phone. He could only hope that it has survived the lake. Miraculously it beeped into life.
"Thank the Lady." Fraser said sotto voce.
"Nnnno." Ray said through chattering teeth, "I...know...you...like...bought... gunge...proof phone...months ago."
The rescue services' arrival almost drowned out the feeble cries of the two divers stranded and half drowned in the water as they clung to a piece of flotsam. Fraser pulled the red emergency blanket closer around his shoulders and pointed them out to the rescue divers who were being manhandled into their equipment on the shore.
"Good job you didn't go in for them." One burly diver said wisely.
"Looks like he tried." His buddy said.
"Couldn't reach them - muscles started to cramp." Fraser said tiredly.
"You were lucky you made it back." His tone said loudly and derisively 'amateur'. "That water's at four degrees you can only last minutes without the proper stuff."
"Leave him alone, Womack." His buddy said as he began to perform a check on his partner's diving equipment before entering the water. "You would have done the same thing."
"No, I wouldn't."
Their bantering had the same ring as his and Ray's conversations, Fraser noted. Somewhere amongst the mass of emergency vehicles which had arrived in response to his garbled call to Lieutenant Welsh he could hear his friend protesting loudly.
"If you'll excuse me." Fraser bowed politely.
"Yeah." The divers said absently.
As he turned away the less cynical diver stopped him. "Thanks for keeping your eye on them until we got here. You probably saved their lives. Now go get yourself warm."
"It wasn't me keeping an eye on them."
The diver looked at him obliquely but obviously couldn't think of a response.
"A friend did it as a favour." Fraser explained - it didn't help.
"Go get warm." The diver pushed him in the direction of the ambulance. Fraser obeyed.
Ray was being helped into the back of the ambulance by two veteran paramedics who looked less than happy with the protesting detective.
"Fraser, Fraser, Fraser, tell them I'm okay."
The mountie clambered into the ambulance ahead of Ray and settled himself beside the wolf who was waiting patiently by the gurney.
"It's standard procedure after respiratory failure." He said with his customary directness. "They need to ensure that you do not suffer any ill effects - there is especially a risk of secondary drowning."
"Secondary drowning?"
Noticing Ray's distraction the paramedics managed to manhandle him into the ambulance and firmly strapped him in before he could protest further.
"Yes, Ray, sometimes there is an allergic reaction to the inhaled water. This can result in swelling and the production of mucous in the lungs and the victim actually drowns in their own fluids - sometimes several hours later."
"Yuck.." Ray gagged dramatically.
The rest of his response was lost as the paramedics slammed the ambulance door shut.
Curled up on the couch - waited upon hand and foot by his mother and oldest sister - Ray revelled in the attention. Frannie had made herself scarce. Ray roused himself as he heard Ma open the front door and greet the mountie with a loud smacking kiss. The remote control placed conveniently near at hand switched the CD player off.
"Caro?" Ma poked her head around the corner of the door.
"Send him in, Ma, I'm awake." Ray laughed, touched by her concern.
"He's awake, now." Ray heard his Ma say to the mountie - she must have checked on him every ten minutes since Fraser had brought him home early in the morning cocooned in a heavy blanket. The officious old doctor who had treated him in the emergency room had assured him that his 'core temperature' was now normal and he was in no further danger of hypothermia. Although, it had taken a hot bath before he had felt human. Fraser had waited patiently outside the bathroom until he had emerged - asking every two minutes if he was 'all right' - helped him stagger into a warm bed and then before the detective had had a chance to talk to the mountie - Fraser had literally ran from the room. A small part of him had wanted to chase after the mountie but the bigger part argued that he was in a nice warm bed he had had a horrible night and he was kinda tired. The next thing he knew was that it was mid-afternoon and he had slept without moving a muscle for hours. Ma had told him that Fraser had apologised profusely and that she hadn't understood a word of his explanation and then made some excuse about seeing to Dief. All in all it was obvious that there was something on the mountie's mind.
Fraser sidled into the room - if he had had his stetson he would be fidgeting nervously with it, Ray noticed.
"How are you feeling, Ray?"
"Fine. Bit sore." He scooted along the couch and patted it invitingly. Fraser shook his head and remained standing almost at attention.
"What's the matter with you?" Ray demanded.
Ma cast a sideways glance at the twosome and then made some noises about making tea and beetled out of the sitting room.
"Ray, I owe you an apology." The mountie moved to stand at attention.
"Sit down, man." Ray waved his friend onto an old beaten up armchair.
Reluctantly, Fraser sat, his back was ramrod straight.
"So what you gotta apologise for now?"
"I almost got you killed."
"So what else is new?" Ray rolled his eyes.
Fraser ignored that comment determined to get his explanation out.
"If I hadn't ran off into the woods after our 'conversation' I would have been with you when the criminals arrived and thus prevented your near brush with death."
"You arrogant piece... we were both so wrapped up in our 'conversation'," Ray parroted as he leaned forwards keeping the mountie's attention firmly on him, "that they could have walked up and shot us where we stood."
Embarrassed the mountie looked at his boots. Ray relented, he knew that it was uncharacteristic - he put it down to the surfeit of Ma's hot chocolate with gooey marshmallows.
"Sorry, Ray." Fraser began again.
"You know what your problem is don't you?" Ray interrupted.
Fraser shook his head.
"The first time you over reacted you got slapped so hard you never tried it again."
"He didn't smack me then." Fraser objected.
No, he just sent you live with emotionless robots by the sound of it.
"Ah, forget it, Benny, you don't have anything to apologise for. It probably did you the world of good."
Fraser's eyebrows rose in disbelief.
Inwardly sighing at the lack of understanding in his best friend's eyes Ray decided to let him off and change the subject.
P'raps Benny'll think about what I said - maybe pigs'll fly.
"You know what's really scary about the whole thing?"
"No, Ray." Fraser said obediently.
"The way you just accepted it. The Earth Mother comes and voila you come 'round and rope me into an investigation. You never questioned. Did it ever occur to you to wonder if you were going nuts?"
"Why didn't you sic the departmental psychologist on me?" Fraser countered.
Oh boy, was I tempted.
"It wouldn't have been right." Ray heard himself say. "I don't believe for one moment that you saw the Earth Mother. I guess you picked up on some, what do you call 'em, subliminal clues - probably a smell - and imagined it all. That's it, you were hallucinating from the chemicals they'd already dumped.
For a moment Fraser looked offended, then before it could almost register he wiped the expression from his face.
"That's an interesting idea, Ray."
"But you don't believe it?"
"No." Fraser said easily. "I don't need proof to believe in some things. I can just accept them on faith."
Ray found himself automatically nodding in response to the words.
Fraser stood up, preparing to leave. "Don't drink too much chocolate, Ray you'll make yourself sick." As he reached the door, Ray called out: "Pick you up tomorrow to drive you to the consulate?"
Fraser turned and smiled. "Thank you kindly.
fin.